The Twelfth Time, He Falls in Love
by Wolframiflameu
Summary: Loke has always felt time rush past him with a curious vengeance. For reasons unknown, he is more acutely aware of time than most people. He learns that beauty can slow time down and seeks beauty in all that he does. But as he begins wavering on his path, he comes across Lucy Heartfilia. And she captures time for him once more. Lolu pairing. Highschool AU.
1. The First Time

A little boy sits on a grey cement wall, legs swinging, arms held out. His eyes wrinkle downward, following the patterns of dust that cake the path. Around him, he senses the bustle of time rush past. Its frantic wings graze against his skin painfully. He reaches out in an attempt to capture it, hold it back. But his outstretched palm curves around nothingness instead.

"Mommy," he whines softly, swivelling around to look at his mother standing some distance away, exchanging pleasantries with an acquaintance. "Mommy!" He raises his voice and jumps down, padding clumsily to her on his unsure feet. He tugs at her hand and looks up at her, "Why is time going away, Mommy? Why can't I catch it?"

She pauses midway through her conversation and ruffles his flaming shock of hair absently. "Loke dear, why don't you go play by yourself while I talk to Mrs. Heartfilia here. We'll be ready to leave in a while."

"Okay," Loke agrees, but reiterates, "But why can't I catch time?"

His mother looks down at him with a faintly exasperated expression and reaches out to him. But before she can say anything, Mrs. Heartfilia answers in dignified solemnity, "You see, Loke, only beauty can catch time." Loke shifts his attention to the woman standing beside his mother. She has shimmering blonde hair and kind brown eyes that twinkle down at him. She continues in a soft inflection, "Why do you think people click pictures of beautiful sceneries, or actions or pictures? It's only beauty which can hold time imprisoned, whether in thought or word or deed."

Loke stares at her for a few moments and delcares with a sudden smile, "I like Mrs. Heartfilia!"

Mrs. Heartfilia chuckles and gently tugs at his smooth cheeks, "I like you too, kiddo. Call me Aunt Layla." She turns to Loke's Mother and smiles, "Helen, your child is absolutely adorable."

Loke's Mother laughs in reponse, "Oh, but he's a piece of work too!"

"But wait," Loke interposes urgently, "Aunt Layla, if I find beauty I can stop time?"

"No," she shakes her head, "If you learn to appreciate beauty, you stop time."

"And not external beauty, dear," his Mother adds, "That beauty that nestles deep within the heart and touches everyone around."

Loke smiles hesitantly at them and slowly shuffles away, the gears of his mind whirring into motion. As the two ladies gaze affectionately at his retreating figure, his Mother laughs, "I think we may have given a 7 year old boy a philosophy lesson."

"He's a precocious little darling," Mrs. Heartfilia smiles, "I'm sure he gets it."

And indeed he did. From that moment onward, Loke made a silent oath to appreciate beauty in all its forms if only to extend time a little each day.

* * *

He begins off with that beautiful childlike innocence that captures beauty in the most fleeting of moments, captures the heart of a person, looks to see the perfection that comes from being imperfect and the goodness that far overpowers outward appearances. And indeed, he realises that the flight of time slows down to a steady trot and if he focuses long enough, time stands still beside him like an old friend.

But somewhere along the way, through the tumultuous path of adolescence, he loses sight of that beauty that helps him survive and greet time as one of his own. He begins to seek outward attractiveness, courting girls and revelling in their company. But he realises with a growing fear that time has refused to walk alongside him. Its harsh flapping against his skin numbs him as he watches it slip out of clutches like glossy beads of mercury. He can feel life accelerating around him, yet he stands static unable to move, frozen in a certain helpless desperation. In vain, he seeks out more girls, beautiful, with glossy manes of hair and full plump lips. Yet time passes him by.

The true meaning of beauty is obscured in his mind. He forgets all about kindness, goodness, and myriad other qualities until the hour when he falls in love with a certain Lucy Heartfilia.

* * *

The first time he notices Lucy Heartfilia is on the first day of high school. He sits leisurely on his bench, legs propped up on his desk, hands tucked beneath his shocking mane. He exudes all the arrogance and confidence of one who is utterly sure of himself and almost brazenly comfortable in his skin. A bevy of girls surround him as do a group of adoring hero-worshippers. He admits he likes the attention. He enjoys being popular. It's one of the thing that help to distract him from the continuous rushing of life past his ears.

He has just slipped on his dark shades and whipped back his long hair much to the adoration of his little circle, when he notices a thin, harried girl framed against the doorway. He later wonders what it even is that drives him into paying her more than a cursory glance. She isn't remarkably beautiful or arresting. She has shoulder length blonde hair and cool brown eyes framed against pale skin. Perhaps it is the way she faintly tugs at a memory in his past, or perhaps it is the look of utter disgust permeating her expression as she looks unflinchingly at him.

Under her harsh scrutiny, he is suddenly struck by the juvenility of his actions. The dark glares sitting atop his nose seem painfully ostentatious as does his lazy reclined pose. In a sudden spurt of motion he sits up straight and runs his fingers through his hair. He is however, the object of attention of the newcomer for a mere fleeting instant and as he looks back up, he notices she has retreated to a nondescript corner of the classroom. He frowns for a second indignantly before shrugging and shifting his attention back to his friends. He promptly forgets about the slight, blonde new girl.

She comes up front at the beginning of class upon the urging of the teacher and introduces herself even as Loke slumps back into his seat and balances a pen atop his nose. "Hello," she smiles tightly, "I'm Lucy." And that's that. She refuses to elaborate, or endear herself to her classmates. She refuses to try to insert a faux optimism in her voice. She is raw, real and uncaring. For a second, Loke's attention is caught and he feels a certain degree of respect towards her. He thinks that maybe he would like to befriend New Girl Lucy. That's what he mentally christens her too, 'New Girl Lucy'.

As the day progresses, he is caught up in the bustle of cracking jokes, shooting smirks and generally being the annoying prick that he is. He encounters New Girl Lucy a few times. But come evening and New Girl Lucy slips by his mind and falls away.

* * *

A/N: hello, enjoy this highschool au fic coz lolu is love omg. also a big huge thanks and hug to lucyglitter11 for helping me finalize on the number 12 for the title. her theory is that since loke is the leader of 12 zodiacs, 12 seems appropriate and i think that's absolutely genius. anyway bai.


	2. The Second Time

The second time he notices New Girl Lucy is a few days later when he is furiously necking a gasping upperclassman, as they fumble their way to the roof of the school. Lips against skin, the shivering contact and Loke pushes open the door and emerges onto the roof, hands firmly planted on her hips. A flash of yellow catches his eye. He pauses his after-school activities long enough to notice a yellow haired girl leaning against the rail with her back to them.

He lets go off the girl beside him absently and looks curiously at the blonde girl. He thinks she looks strangely familiar. "Oh," he murmurs to himself in recognition, "New Girl Lucy." The upperclassman beside him is forgotten. For some reason, he feels no need to resume his amorous exertions. The girl waves an arm in front of him impatiently, one hand planted indignantly on her hips. "Loke, you utter cock, you were the one who wanted this. What is even wrong with you?"

Loke however seems to be transfixed by New Girl Lucy and brushes his earlier companion aside. "I'm sorry, Sylvia. Maybe you should get going now." The girl, Syliva, contorts her face into one of disgust and stalks off before sneering at him and casting an infuriated look at Lucy. Loke realises somewhere in the corner of his mind that he is being terribly ungentlemanly, but he simply doesn't care anymore.

Perhaps, it is because his subconscious grasps the immensity of the situation - that New Girl Lucy slows time down for him.

Despite the commotion, and Syliva pointedly slamming the door shut as she leaves, Lucy doesn't look back. She doesn't acknowledge the presence of another so Loke doesn't utter a word either. It's a strangely liberating, almost companionable silence.

The sun sets slowly, painting the azure skies a million different hues of red, gold and blue. And New Girl Lucy stands perfectly still, hands tightly gripping the railing, face slightly raised upwards. A few metres behind her, Loke leans against the wall, fingers pressing against cold cement as he feels the gentle trot of time beside him. Perhaps this is the sole reason he refuses to move. After all, he has not a personal interest in New Girl Lucy. There is just something about her that calms him, calms the wings of time around him. With Lucy around the urgency he so glaringly feels, fades away.

An hour passes by, or is it two? Loke cares not. But a while later, she turns around, blonde hair whipping backwards against the motion of her body and she sets eyes on a orange headed boy staring intently at her. Her expressions flicker from surprise to confusion to a vacant sort of friendliness.

"Hello?" She asks uncertainly, "I'm Lucy."

Loke stares at her in reply.

"And your name is?" She prompts, smiling in a manner that suggests she really doesn't care about his name at all.

.

"Oh, right, " and Loke recovers enough of his inherent jauntiness and cheekiness to shoot her a smirk, "Loke Celesté at your service."

She smiles at him and walks away.

* * *

And that is how Loke finds himself hiding behind a week-old newspaper while not-quite-surreptitiously following New Girl Lucy on her way. If someone had pulled him by the scruff, stuck a microphone beneath his nose and asked him what on earth he was doing, Loke Celesté, Playboy of Fairy Tail High, would've honestly been lost for words.

Among other important self-discoveries that he makes in the span of his Lucy-shadowing, he realises he would've made a bloody awful spy. As he crashes into a passerby for the umpteenth time, he wonders how he hasn't been found out yet. But then again New Girl Lucy always seems so caught up in her own thoughts and Loke thinks he would like to know what thrives behind her uncommunicative mask.

He watches her as she walks swiftly past the crowd, arms swinging gently from side to side, back straightened, stance firm. She walks with quiet confidence, yet infinite sadness. It is a curious combination of qualities and Loke struggles to understand her.

She strides into a shop and Loke hangs around outside, looking up at its broken signboard that proclaims 'Boutique de Fleuriste: Finest Flowers in All of Magnolia'. He slips over to the glass window and from behind the safety of his upside-down newspaper, he peers into the shop and notices New Girl Lucy animatedly talking to the florist. It's the first time Loke has ever seen her quite so enthusiastic and he stops for a moment, for in the heat of her vibrancy, she looks almost beautiful. For a delicate tint of red pools through her white cheeks, strands of glistening blonde hair sweep over her eyes and her fingers earnestly scrawl her emotions in the air. In her lively happiness, Loke finds a curious sort of happiness as well.

A package of white flowers is handed over to her. She smiles gratefully before completing the payment and strolling out. There is a spring in her walk, life in her eyes and Loke finds that he is strangely proud of her for goodness-knows-what. He wonders however who the flowers are for, whether or not the person to whom she would later give these flowers, is responsible for her sudden vitality. Then he wonders which flowers Lucy likes best.

He walks behind her all the way to a little apartment on Hibiscus Street. She cradles her flowers in one arm while jostling open the door with another and in a swift motion she vanishes into her home. Loke stands still, framed against the light of the moon ascending higher into the skies. "Bye Lucy," he murmurs as he walks away. And time has stood beside him like a faithful friend in the course of the day.

That night Loke dreams of dilapidated flower shops and blossoming white flowers. He dreams of setting suns and rose-tinted cheeks. He dreams of a quiet girl who throws her head back and laughs. The laughter echoes in the crevices of his mind and he sleeps with a smile on his lips. In his dream, he walks up to her and tells her that she's beautiful. In his dream, the quiet girl is Lucy.

That night passes in a slow trance; a deep rich sleep that he hasn't experienced since he lost sight of true beauty.

* * *

A/N: Thank all of you awesome awesome people who fav-ed, reviewed and followed this. Asdfgjkil you guys are so sweet! Boutique de Fleuriste sounds so frickin cool right credits lucyglitter11. I should just make her my co-author or something.


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